Chapter 187: Don't You Know That I'm Also Heartbroken?

Nathael looked up at her, concern replacing his previous expression. "What's wrong?"

Maggie's determination flared. Still acting, huh? she thought. Fine, let's play. Let's see how long this charade lasts.

"It's nothing," Maggie replied, lowering her eyes, "just feeling a little uneasy." She was already plotting her next move.

Nathael frowned and pulled her into a comforting embrace. "What made you uneasy?"

Maggie looked into his intense eyes, hesitated, then said nothing. "Nothing. I just had a dream; I was probably overthinking."

Maintaining her composure, she grasped his injured arm. "Let's get the music score manuscript from your house now."

Nathael remained calm, showing no sign of pain, as if his arm weren't injured at all. Maggie's gaze flickered to his hand; a chill crept into her eyes. If she hadn't seen Lucas's photos clearly showing his injuries, she would have doubted it. He was clearly in pain, critically injured. Why the silence? Why the pretense?

The thought weighed heavily on her, a sharp pang hitting her heart, making her eyes sting with sorrow. Thankfully, Nathael didn't seem to notice as she held his hand.

Unbeknownst to Maggie, Nathael was watching her, his brow furrowed, sensing something was amiss. More than half an hour later, they arrived at his villa.

Nathael had Alex fetch the manuscript. Maggie inspected it carefully, surprised by its authenticity. After a thorough examination, it was nearly identical to the reproduced version, with only minor differences. Seated on his lap, she gingerly returned it.

"How did you get this?" she asked, curious.

"I thought you'd like it," Nathael replied, reclining on the sofa, embracing her with one arm (due to his injury), his voice gentle.

"Hmm?" Maggie was momentarily bewildered.

"Stay here tonight," Nathael announced, his gaze serious.

Maggie felt overwhelmed. She'd guessed she wouldn't be going home. "Then I'll take the guest room."

Nathael smirked. "Afraid I might touch you?"

Arch an eyebrow, Maggie replied confidently, "You've been thinking about me for more than a day or two."

Nathael laughed softly. It felt as if the ice was melting, light piercing through the clouds, bringing renewal. Maggie was dazed; she'd rarely seen him laugh so happily.

In her past life, she'd had no positive interactions with him before losing her sight, let alone seeing such an expression. Even as a spirit, he never laughed. In this life, he smiled more often, but this genuine laugh was rare.

"You should laugh more often," Maggie said, throwing herself into his arms, accidentally brushing his injured arm. Unfortunately, she detected no change in his expression. His pain tolerance was incredible; she couldn't push further.

As she pondered, Nathael gently embraced her. "Sleep in the master bedroom; I won't touch you," he said in a deep voice. Maggie glanced at his injured arm. "Do you have my clothes?"

"Yes. If you need anything, I'll have Alex bring it," Nathael assured her.

Maggie rose. "I'll shower first."

In the bathroom, she showered leisurely. Afterward, she studied her reflection. Mischief glinted in her eyes as she schemed. Hiding your injury, huh?

How much can you endure? she mused. Let's see how long he can pretend!

After drying herself, she chose a white camisole nightgown. With Nathael likely tending to his injuries in the other bathroom, Maggie took her time, blow-drying her hair and applying skincare products.

Nathael emerged in navy pyjamas. Seeing Maggie, he paused, his throat tightening. Maggie, feigning puzzlement, asked, "Why the long sleeves? Aren't you hot?"

"The fabric is thin," Nathael explained.

"Oh," Maggie replied, unease settling over her.

"Your hair needs drying, or you'll get a headache," Nathael said, taking the hairdryer to dry her hair.

Under the dryer's hum, she felt the heat. Maggie closed her eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. She avoided the mirror, preventing him from seeing any clues. It's just hair. What's to worry about? You're worried about my headache, but what about you? Don't you hurt? Don't you know I'm also heartbroken?

She felt suffocated by her intentions; she determined to confront Nathael and unveil his true self. Despite his wound, Nathael's fingers moved gently through her hair. Nothing could replace this moment.

He looked at her reflection, admiring her beauty. Her petite face was bright, with a hint of coldness between her eyebrows. Her eyelashes drooped, long and thin. He didn't know what made her unhappy. Her lips were pursed, her cheeks slightly flushed. He saw her slender neck and clavicles.

She chose a V-neck silk camisole dress, darkening his pupils slightly. He refocused on her hair, gently drying it. Words were superfluous, replaced by the comforting warmth. Maggie was dazed, remembering him drying her hair countless times in her previous life. Initially, a servant did it, but later, he took over, always patient.